


Good Intentions

by brushstrokesApocalyptic, Calcu22, Icelandic_Flutterby, SparkleDragons, Tanacetum, TaraHarkon



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, Lucretia's Bad Plan AU, Tres Meddling Kids
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-07-16 15:18:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16088768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brushstrokesApocalyptic/pseuds/brushstrokesApocalyptic, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calcu22/pseuds/Calcu22, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icelandic_Flutterby/pseuds/Icelandic_Flutterby, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SparkleDragons/pseuds/SparkleDragons, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tanacetum/pseuds/Tanacetum, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaraHarkon/pseuds/TaraHarkon
Summary: A year ago, the gods stopped answering.Clerics aren’t a thing anymore, and for that matter, neither are warlocks. They can pray and pray and beg and plead, but no matter what they try it doesn’t change the simple fact that whatever connection there was that linked them to their gods has been severed.They’ve all accepted that by now.But three children suspect they've lost more than they know. There's a mystery here, and they're determined to solve it.





	1. Wilt

A year ago, the gods stopped answering.

Clerics aren’t a thing anymore, and for that matter, neither are warlocks. They can pray and pray and beg and plead, but no matter what they try it doesn’t change the simple fact that whatever connection there was that linked them to their gods has been severed.

They’ve all accepted that by now.

 

* * *

 

Angus McDonald, age twelve, goes to visit his aging grandfather in Neverwinter, to see him and speak with him one last time before he finally passes away.

Or, well, to be more precise— he visits his great-great-great-great-great-grandfather, in the mountains near Neverwinter, because his grandfather happens to be an ancient silver dragon. But setting that pedantry aside, it’s his grandfather, and he’s old and dying and Angus wanted to see him one last time.

They speak of many things, from the glisten of the gemstones iced over in the walls of his grandfather’s lair to the howl of the wind outside to the state of the world, a world which Angus’s grandfather has not had the energy to go out and witness himself for a very long time. It is during one of the lulls in the conversation, while Angus is idly spinning a coin on the ground and listening to his grandfather’s slow, thunderous breaths, that his grandfather asks something of him.

“My child,” he says, and Angus lifts his head. “Won’t you come over here? I want to see your face.”

Angus complies silently, getting to his feet and padding over to stand before his grandfather’s snout. He feels dwarfed, there— he could barely manage to touch the top of his grandfather’s nose, if he stood on the tips of his toes, and every exhale sends icy wind blowing over Angus and chilling him to the bone.

“Tell me, child,” his grandfather says. “What was that story you were telling me about, with the false mummy and the child who figured it out?”

“Ah— Caleb Cleveland and the Yorkton Sarcophagus, sir?” Angus asks, bouncing on his heels a little and letting his face light up. “That was the most recent Caleb Cleveland book, it just came out last month— it’s not my personal favorite, but it’s up there!”

Angus goes on for another couple minutes, rambling about every topic relating to the book, until a small chuckle from his grandfather cuts him off. “You have the same spark,” his grandfather murmurs, shutting his eyes contentedly.

Angus tilts his head. “I’m sorry, sir, what?”

“You have the same spark in your eye,” his grandfather says. “The spark I saw first in my wife, and then in our daughter, our granddaughter, our great-grandchildren… the spark of curiosity and enthusiasm that made me fall in love with humanity the first time.”

His grandfather falls silent, and so does Angus for a moment. And then his grandfather opens his eyes again, focusing carefully on Angus. “Tell me something, child. Do you feel it too?”

Angus blinks, kneeling carefully on the ice before his grandfather. “Feel what, sir?”

“The fatigue, the wilt at the edge of your scales, the withering of your bones,” his grandfather says, shifting ever so slightly into a different position. “You’ve seen how the gems don’t glisten so brightly anymore, heard how the wind howls weakly, watched the world grow dim and faded… it cannot be only me who feels the effects firsthand, for it is my blood that runs through your veins.”

And Angus remains silent, eyes fixed on his hands clasped in his lap, because he knows he feels it but maybe if he doesn’t acknowledge it out loud it won’t really happen. He can pretend it’s simply the summer heat not getting along with him, the same as it does every year.

“The world is dying, child,” his grandfather says. “Magic is dying, I am dying, and as much as you would like to simply step around it like a puddle in the road… you, too, will die.”

And Angus says, “I don’t want to die, sir.”

And his grandfather chuckles. “And so you should not,” he says, lifting his head with tremendous effort just to gently brush his nose against Angus’s face. “You are a child, only a decade into your existence… it would be a tragedy to be cut down so soon.”

Angus nods, still staring down at his hands.

“My child,” his grandfather says, settling back down. “Would you do one more thing for me? One last mystery to solve.”

Angus looks up, and nods.

“Find the answer. Find out what happened a year ago, and do whatever you can to fix it.” He closes his eyes. “Can you do that for me?”

Angus stares at him for a long moment, and then down at his reflection in the icy floor. There’s bags under his eyes, an ashy pallor to his skin, but still a bright spark of life in his eyes. A spark of hope.

“For myself, too.”

 

* * *

 

They call it Judgement Day. The day the gods looked at the world and deemed it hopeless, abandoned it to fend off the invisible invaders alone, left it to pick itself back up and put itself back together alone.

Angus doesn’t remember anything of that day. The months leading up to it, too, are a patchwork of vague snippets— a mystery on a train, a birthday spent in Neverwinter, magic lessons that end up almost fifty percent cooking lessons instead, but not a single memory of who was involved in any of these things.

It’s not an uncommon story.

 

* * *

 

There are two objects that Angus McDonald has which he feels are vital to answering this mystery. The first is a simple silver bracer, a size too small and impossible to wear anyway, given the lack of any seam or other way to open it. There’s some kind of symbol engraved into it, though Angus finds he can’t seem to get his eyes to focus on it. He takes that to mean it’s enchanted in some way.

The other object is a wand, broken in half and clumsily taped back together. He knows this one, actually— it’s his wand, of course, the one he used when learning magic from… whoever he learned magic from. Sometime between his last magic lesson and when he finds it in his grandfather’s hoard, it was broken and subsequently repaired, and the apocalypse falls handily into that time period.

He places the bracer in his bag, hangs the wand from a lanyard around his neck, and returns to Neverwinter to begin his investigation.

It’s easier said than done, though, to investigate the cause of a worldwide cataclysmic event that happened a year ago— where does he even start to look for clues? Every inch of Faerun is the crime scene, and by now a good portion of the evidence has been patched over or forgotten.

And so here he finds himself, sitting on a bench outside a marketplace in Neverwinter, staring at the faded weeds poking up through the pavement. He’d intended for it to be just a brief pause, a moment to catch his breath and let his legs rest after hiking all the way back here from his grandfather’s home, but perhaps the fatigue managed to get more of a hold on him than he thought because before he knows it he finds himself dozing off right then and there.

And then someone comes and sits next to him, and he jolts away, and he’s struck by the sense that he’s met this person somewhere before.

She’s a dwarf girl, about his age if he has to guess, with her hair tied back in two braids and thick glasses perched on her nose. She has flowers weaved into her hair— fake, they must be, the real ones barely bloom at all nowadays— and is wearing simple, practical clothing, and she turns and looks directly at him and says the exact same thing he’s thinking.

“Hey, have we met somewhere before?”

All Angus can really do is shrug. “I don’t know. I’ve forgot a lot of things.”

“Me too. That’s why I asked.”

They’re silent for a long moment before Angus speaks. “What’s with the flowers?”

The girl blinks. “I dunno, they just felt familiar,” she says, fiddling with one of the ones at the end of her braid. A gardenia, Angus thinks. “Like home.”

“They’re fake, right?” Angus asks, though the more he looks at them the more he thinks they’re quite expertly made if they are.

She glares at him. “I know how to keep a couple flowers alive,” she says, tossing the braid back over her shoulder.

“Ah— sorry, then,” Angus says, hiking his shoulders up a little. “It’s just… with all this…” He motions towards the leaves poking up through the pavement.

The girl nods, looking down as well. “Well, I know a couple cantrips, is all.”

Angus nods. “I’m Angus,” he says, offering his hand for a shake.

She takes it. “Yeah,” she says, like she already knew that. “Mavis.”

And Angus finds he already knew, too.

“Hey,” he asks after a moment. “Do you remember where you were?”

“Huh?”

“When the, um— the whole big attack,” Angus clarifies. “Judgement Day.”

“I was in Goldcliff, with my mom,” Mavis says. “I almost got killed, but then these two dryads saved me. Do you remember?”

Angus shakes his head. “I don’t. And it really bugs me, ‘cause I’m trying to investigate what happened but I don’t have a clue where to start.”

“Investigate? Really?” Mavis asks, incredulous. “It happened a year ago, and you’re, what, a whole year younger than me?”

“Hey, I’ll have you know I’m the world’s greatest detective!” Angus protest, puffing his chest out. “Even if, um… I might be a little rusty at it. After everything happened.”

Mavis huffs, and crosses her arms. “Well, even if you are, you’re one person. Isn’t everyone already trying to figure it out? Wizards in their towers, clerics going through old texts, druids asking the animals what they know… what’s one more person gonna manage to add?”

“Well, what did two dryads manage to add to your life?” Angus asks back. He stares up at the sky, up at where the two moons hang silvery and faint in the still-bright sky. “I’ve managed to crack tons of big cases before, all on my own.”

Mavis huffs a little, following his gaze up to the sky. “Well, I figure this one is a little too big to do on your own. Where do we start?”

 

* * *

 

Here’s the thing. It’s not just the divine plane that was cut off. Every plane, from the elemental planes to the astral plane to the plane of magic. Every plane has been cut off, and while some of the repercussions revealed themselves instantly, others needed time to grow and grow until they became too obvious to ignore.

The spellcasters noticed first. Wizards finding their most powerful spells simply missing the strength they’re known for, bards singing songs that fall flat, druids needing to put effort into changing shape— cause for panic when every other time has been easy as taking a step. Without a connection to the plane of magic, all they have left to work with is what energy is left behind, and that’s simply not enough to run on. For most, that’s acceptable— devastating, perhaps, to lose such a large part of life, but they’ll find a way to live on.

For some, however, it’s untenable. When you’ve had magic run through your veins all your life, trying to remove it would be as lethal draining out your blood.

 

* * *

  
  
The two of them get all the way to the gates of Neverwinter before something gets in their way.

Or rather, someone gets in their way. “Y’all going somewhere?” asks a human girl, somewhere in her late teens if Angus has to guess, with her hair tied back in a ponytail. “You’re a little young to be adventuring.”

“Oh, don’t worry, ma’am!” Angus says with as much cheer as he can muster. “I have magic.”

The girl raises an eyebrow at him, eyes flickering over to one of the faded trees nearby.

“And a crossbow.”

“Fair,” the girl says, tilting her head a little.

“Why do you care?” Mavis asks, stepping in front of Angus.

“I overheard y’all in the marketplace,” the girl says, raising her hands placatingly. “Sorry, that was probably rude of me. But I just figured I should probably stop two like, what, twelve-year-olds? From running away from their parents and trying to solve a mystery without anyone remotely resembling an adult to accompany them.”

“I’m thirteen,” Mavis said.

“Still pretty bad,” the girl says.

“Well, I know what I’m doing!” Angus says, puffing up his chest. “So we’ll be fine.”

“I just said I listened in on your conversation,” the girl says, crossing her arms. “Yaint got a single clue.”

“Well, no,” Angus says. “But I’ll find some!”

“Uh huh,” the girl says. “Well, do you have anywhere in mind?”

“No, but like I _said—”_

“Because,” the girl interrupts, lifting her hand. “I have an idea.”

Angus blinks. “You do?”

“The town where I live, Refuge. Some pretty fucky shit went down a while before the whole apocalypse and whatnot, and it might just be related,” June says. “And you’re not gonna let yourself get stopped, I may as well make sure you have a babysitter.”

Angus opens his mouth to protest, then pauses, and shuts it. “Well, okay. Adventurers always do better in groups of three, after all!”

“Do they?” Mavis asks. “Is that a thing? Is that a thing people say?”

“Well,” Angus shrugs. “In my experience, at least.”

The girl sighs, and steps over to walk on Angus’s other side. “Well, if we’re going to be adventurers now, we may as well get to know each other. I’m June. I’ve been learning rogue stuff.”

“Oh, yeah!” Angus says, looking up at her with a wide grin. “I’m Angus McDonald, the world’s greatest detective! I’m a sorcerer.”

June blinks, raising her eyebrows. “Oh, I’ve heard of you.” She looks at Mavis. “What about you?”

Mavis jumps a little. “Oh, I’m Mavis. I’m… kind of a druid, I guess.”

“Only kind of?” June asks.

“Well, I don’t have any kind of formal training or anything,” she says, shrugging. “I just know a thing or two I learned from…” She pauses. “...Someone.”

“Oh, you forgot who taught you?” Angus asks, leaning over. “That’s okay, I forget who taught me too.”

“Taught ya?” June asks. “I thought sorcerers could just do magic because they can.”

“Well, yeah!” Angus says. “But I got help to figure out how to do it _right.”_

“Fair,” June says, tilting her head.

They continue on for a couple minutes in silence, until Mavis speaks up. “If we’re gonna be adventurers, do you think we should come up with a team name?”

“Like what?” June asks.

Mavis shrugs. “I dunno, I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”

Angus hums. “Maybe…” Something niggles at the back of his mind, like there’s some person, or people, he should honor. Someone to pay homage to to in this single, incredibly important moment. A moment that could make or break what little credibility they may have. “...Tres Meddling Kids?”

“That’s dumb,” Mavis responds immediately.

“Well we don’t have to do it!” Angus says, looking away firmly.

“Nah, I like it,” June says. “We are a bunch of meddling kids, after all. It fits.”

Mavis sighs. “Really?”

“Tres Meddling Kids,” Angus repeats.

“Tres Meddling Kids,” June says as well.

“Guess I’m outvoted,” Mavis says, kicking at the ground, though she doesn’t seem that bothered by it. “Tres Meddling Kids it is.”

 

* * *

 

The world ended a year ago.

Cut off from all the other planes, magic began to fade, life ceased to flourish, and ghosts stopped moving on.

 _We can’t go back now,_ a woman tells herself as she stares through the golden light of a barrier, the only thing protecting this world from the rippling hunger that has wrapped itself around it.

_The Hunger can’t last forever, we just need to wait it out. I’ve lost too much to back out now._

It’s quiet nowadays. The surviving members of her Bureau were sent back to their homes, bereft of their memories to spare them the burden, and the deceased have given up on trying to dissuade her. Her only company is the young voidfish, still floating in its tank in her quarters, still nameless as the one man who ought to be the one to name it died long ago.

Here’s the thing about good intentions: they don’t mean anything, and if you follow them too far, you’ll walk straight into hell and drag everyone else down with you. You’ll lose dear friends, first in spirit and then much more literally. You’ll think it was worth it, will be worth it in the end, and turn a blind eye to the repercussions, not even look to see if anything has happened while you were gone. Because it hurts too much.

The world ended a year ago. Lucretia tells herself it didn’t. Somewhere far below, outside the city of Neverwinter, three children look to find a way to restart it.

And that just about covers it.


	2. Clues of a Mystery

The first thing Merle remembered after Judgement day was his buddy Taako clinging to a mannequin. It had taken Merle a moment to remember that the mannequin was their third party member.

Merle remembered a woman, blue clad and sorrowful, leading them to a house - their house. “This is your home now,” she’d said, and they’d never seen her again. Neither Taako nor Merle had told her about Magnus the mannequin.

No matter how often he tried, or how hard, he could not remember her name, nor her face.

There were a lot of things he couldn’t remember.

 

* * *

Having hailed a caravan to get to Refuge, the kids sat awkwardly silent, staring at the scenery to avoid staring at each other. Angus fidgeted before speaking.

“So, June,” he said, ever curious, “why were you in Neverwinter?”

June shrugged. “I’ve sort of been travelling since Day of Judgement, trying to help where and when I can. There isn’t much going on in Refuge anyway, nowadays,” she told him.

“There isn’t much going on anywhere.” Mavis said.

 

* * *

Taako couldn’t remember much of anything. He vaguely remembered meeting Merle and Magnus. He vaguely remembered being in a horrible place where he nearly died and Magnus became a mannequin.

He vaguely remembered teaching a kid magic, but for the life of him he could not remember the kid’s face or name or any relevant information. He hoped desperately that the kid was not alone out there.

 

* * *

Having arrived in Refuge late the night before, the Tres Meddling Kids had been ushered to bed the moment they stepped within the boundaries of town.  

But today was a new day and Angus was ready to find this clue. He ran down the stairs of the tavern eagerly and immediately noticed that the other two were not downstairs yet. Maybe they'd gone outside without him, Angus hoped, even as he doubted it.

Angus turned to the innkeeper and opened his mouth to ask her, but she spoke up first. "They aren't up yet, honey," she told him kindly, smiling at his pout. "June doesn’t usually get up so early, so I wouldn't expect her just yet."

"Now, what can I get you? Young kids like you should eat a good meal at every possible opportunity, that's what Taako always said! And I tend to agree with him!" Angus told her what he wanted and ate quietly, thinking intently. The name Taako struck a chord somewhere deep within him, but he didn't know how and he didn't know why. Maybe this was someone he'd known?

 

"Excuse me, miss," Angus began.

"Aw darling, just call me Ren," she said.

"Miss Ren, ma’am," he said. "I was wondering, who is Taako? For some reason he seems," he swallowed, eyes turning downward.

"Does his name sound familiar, dear?" Ren asked kindly, as soft as whipped cream. Silently he nodded. "Taako was a travelling chef that used magic to aid his cooking. He had a show and everything!" she said, and Angus was reminded of magic lessons that more often than not ended in cooking lessons. Could it be? He wondered. "I quite liked his show, but he dropped off the radar a while ago. I was lucky enough to meet him, last year, before doomsday," she said wistfully. Angus' ears (the most visibly elven part of him) perked up.

"You met him?" he asked, excited, "What was he like, what did he look like, what did he do, what did he talk like, what ..."

"Slow down there, detective," June said amused as she came down the stairs, "Ren can't answer all those as quickly as you can ask them." Beside her, Mavis snorted, amused.

 

"Besides, Taako is sort of part of the clue."

Wide-eyed, Angus turned to June and asked, "What do you mean? Taako is part of the clue?"

She grinned, walking backwards outside. Mavis pointed toward Angus and breakfast, grunting pointedly. Angus supposed she was still too sleepy to form basic sentences. June laughed at her.

"You can eat later! C'mon you gotta see the clue!" she exclaimed and then turned and exited the tavern.

Mavis turned to glare and Angus, who lifted up his hands in a "I surrender" gesture. "You can eat the rest of my food on the way there," he said placatingly. Her eyes narrowed, staring at him and giving away nothing, while he silently sat there lightly sweating. Finally, she conceded and met up with him at the door, demanding the rest of the food.

It was a short walk but quite lovely. Sure, there wasn't much to see, but a detective could always find some clues, or at least something to enjoy looking at, and so Angus was looking around as subtly as he could, trying to see if he could spot the clue before June pointed it out.

It was due to this that Angus was walking backwards, feigning sightseeing, while checking to see if he'd missed any signs (he doubted it, but better to be sure) that he didn't notice June stopping and walked into her.

"Sorry!" Angus apologized quickly, "I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to!" She waved him off.

"It's fine, it's fine!" she said. "Anyway, we're here." She told them and beckoned towards the...middle of town?

"I don't understand?" Mavis said, confused.

"The statue, dummy!" June said, rolling her eyes. Angus and Mavis both turned towards it.

"It's a big dude," said Mavis. June laughed and agreed.

"So why is this statue the clue?" Angus asked. "Did he do anything important?"

"Yup! But I can't remember all of it." Understandable, Angus thought quietly, as most people couldn't remember all of a lot of things.

"What I can tell you though, is that his name is Magnus Burnsides, and a year ago he and his two companions saved the town. No one can remember what from, but we do remember this: We were younger."

"Of course you were younger, it was a year ago!" Mavis said, rolling her eyes.

"No no, I mean, much younger. I can't really explain it, because I don't know what it really means, but--we watched these three men stand outside. We can't remember what they were standing outside of, but they were, and they were standing there for like, a decade, without moving at all." June told them in a conspiratorial whisper.

"How weird," Angus mused. "You said Taako had something to do with the clue? I'm guessing he was one of Magnus’s companions?"  

June nodded. "Taako was the elf companion. But there's another odd thing about Magnus," she said eagerly. The two younger kids leaned in. "That statue of him?" They nodded. “It existed before they came and saved this town!"

"It did? How?" Angus asked.

"Well, I assume it was built!" Mavis snarked at him, and Angus, in a sudden, surprising (at least to him) bout of childishness, stuck out his tongue at her.

"Not what I meant and you know it!" he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Calm down! Geez," June said. "No one knows why it existed before they arrived, and no one knows what they did while here. Well, most of what they did--there was something about a purple worm."

The kids stood in silence for a moment, staring at the statue. Suddenly, Angus started, and the two girls looked at him, curious.

"What was the third person's name?" Angus asked eagerly. "You said Mr. Burnsides had two companions, but you only said Taako's name?" It was important to get all the details.

June nodded. "I did mean to tell you, I just, you know, got caught up in telling you about this man,” she said and blushed. "The third companion was a dwarf by the name Merle Highchurch." Mavis dropped her bowl.

Startled and concerned, Angus and June turned to ask Mavis what was wrong. But she interrupted them. "Did you say Highchurch?" she demanded, covering her mouth with her hands when June said yes. Angus asked if she knew him, and Mavis shook her head no. "I don't know a Merle Highchurch, but my little brother is named Mookie Highchurch!"

Mavis gasped in surprise when June grabbed her into a hug. Angus joined in on the hug quickly. "Maybe he's..." Angus whispered. He did not mention how all three of these names tugged at something within him, as if he too, should know these men.

"Maybe," Mavis said, trying not to cry.


	3. Not too familiar

They had a name. They had three names, and that was... that was something.

Angus kept feeling that familiar fuzz when he thought about who they could be, but if anything that just confirmed that they were on the right track. Mavis knows a Highchurch, or knew one. Angus doesn’t know if it’s _Merle_ Highchurch, but...

More static.

Angus had long since stopped being frustrated at the mental roadblocks and just made notes of when it happened.

“So how do we even find them? If Ren had any idea where Taako was, she would have tried visiting him,” June said, long after Mavis got control of herself.

She didn’t cry, but it was close. The hug probably lasted longer than kids who just met a week ago should, but it didn’t feel that awkward.

“If Taako was a traveling chef who stopped for mysterious reasons, I doubt he would want to be in a big city where anyone could recognize him,” Angus thought out loud.

June hummed in agreement while Mavis looked to be deep in thought about something. Probably thinking about her brother’s bio-dad and just who he was if, Angus had to guess.

“Ren might know more, but you are right about that. It seemed like the three just... disappeared after saving us,” June said, before hopping off the base of the statue that they were sitting on.

“I’m going to head back and see what else Ren knows, you two coming or got something else in mind?”

Angus looked to Mavis, who fixed her glasses before giving them a overconfident grin.

“That sounds good. I’ll... I might try calling Mum again to see if she wants to talk about Highchurch, but...”

“You don’t think she’ll remember either?” Angus filled in, when it became apparent Mavis wasn’t going to.

The dwarf shook her head, tucking the flower that she was fidgeting with back into her braids.

“I know she doesn’t,” Mavis said confidently, still looking sad.

“Do you want another hug?” Angus asked at the same time as June, causing Mavis to laugh.

“No, I’m good. Let’s get this mystery solved.”

 

* * *

 

Barry needed to find the boys.

He thought that there would be more time. That Lucretia wouldn’t...

No, that’s not right.

Barry knew, but he cared more about keeping his family safe then saving the world. It wasn’t that Barry _didn’t_ want to save this planar system, but he just wanted his family back. And that includes Lucretia. Even though she doesn’t seem to know that anymore.

The ward keeping Barry out of the moon was gone after half a year. He didn’t notice until later, since Barry was still trying to figure out how to keep his form stable when no one believes him. He wanted to check on Magnus, but it seems that Lucretia was hiding them. Not to mention that souls were no longer able to cross to the other planes. Barry might have been the least affected, since his magic is drawn solely from his soul now, but he doesn’t know how long that will last. The bonds between planes are not supposed to be broken like this.

A lot of things are not supposed to be like this.

Lucretia just ignored him when he visited, still in his spectral form even though his body finished growing. It was like Barry was speaking to a brick wall, and eventually he had to leave before he accidentally hurt Lucretia or lost it all together.

Barry just needed someone. As much as he hated it, Magnus was dead and Barry was so happy about that fact. If he was dead he would be able to remember. Magnus would be able to remember Barry and help him fix this.

But he hasn’t seen any sign of those three in a year.

And for the first time in over a decade, Barry was starting to lose hope.

* * *

 

 

“...That didn’t help at all.” Mavis complained, body slamming into the mattress of the bed she claimed.

“I wouldn’t say at all. It does confirm that he must be hiding,” Angus said, pulling out his notebook while he took a seat on the floor.

He just felt it would be weird to sit on other’s beds, even if Mavis was just as much a stranger to these parts as Angus was.

“But why? And what about the other two? Would they be hiding as well, or even with Taako?” June asked. Angus wished he would answer her.

“I just have a gut feeling that they would. I’m not sure why but...”

Angus made a note of those questions even though they were already in his journal on an earlier page. Along with his drawing of that strange symbol that he couldn’t really get a good look at on that one-size-too-small silver wrist guard. If he isolated the lines he could. But as soon as he put it all together for the symbol it was like his mind turned to mush.

“Now what? Do we just go around asking some small-time towns if they have an elf, human, and dwarf living with them?” Mavis said, and even thought Angus could tell from her tone that she was making a joke...

“We might have to,” Angus said, before sighing and looking back up at the girls. “June, do you know how long ago it was when they left, and judgement day?”

“A few months? I’m not too sure. No one here is.”

Angus still put that down even if he didn’t think it would help much. But it might let him know how far they could travel? Even when Angus thought that, he knew that wasn’t right even if he didn’t know _why_.

“Do you have a map? I could try isolating what towns they would be more likely to stay in. Assuming that they have been in the same place this whole time.”

And that was a huge assumption, but this is the closest thing to a lead they have.

“Yeah, I know Ren has one for travelers,” June said before sitting up and walking out, leaving the two younger member of tres meddling kids alone.

Angus just continued going over his notes. Some from over a year ago that he couldn't even remember making. But he did see that familiar symbol right after that train case. The last official case that Angus could remember. Meaning that this... group existed before judgement day.

“...Angus?”

Angus jerked out if his thoughts and looked to Mavis, who was still on her stomach.

“Yes?”

“Do you think...” Mavis started to say, before shaking her head and letting out a long breath. “You’re like some famous detective right? How likely is it that we will find them?”

“Umm,” Angus looked away from Mavis and down to the journal in his lap.

For the world’s greatest detective, he sure didn’t have a lot of clues about this case. And even worse, most were based off his gut feelings and not evidence. A lot of the time gut feelings can be something that you subconsciously remember, but it isn’t something he should be relying on so readily.

“Not very likely... but if we don’t start looking then we will never know,” Angus finally said.

“Yeah, I guess. It’s just... when I look at that dwarf he seems familiar. Like how you did, but even more so.”

Angus nodded, still thinking about that symbol and wrist guard...

“They had it too!”Angus recalled just as June walked back in.

“They had what now?” June asked, but instead of answering Angus just ran past her.

The two girls ended up following him to the statue where Angus took the silver wrist guard out of his bag. Sure enough all three figures also had it on their arms. Not the same arm, but maybe their dominant one? Not to mention that the dwarf and a weird looking arm...

“Okay, what. The. Hell is that?” June asked, sounding only mildly annoyed.

“I don’t know. I’ve had it ever since judgement day.” Angus keeps looking at the statues, even though it was like his eyes didn’t want to focus of their faces.

Not that the statue was detailed enough for Angus to figure out if he really did recognize them, or if he knew them and just forgot, like with so many other things.

“And you said you don’t remember where you were that day?”

“I don’t remember anything from that day,” Angus told Mavis once more, before he was finally able to pull himself from the statue.

Mavis was looking at the dwarf again, but June was giving Angus a hard look.

“What?”

“Do you think you were involved in... whatever happened?”

“What?”

“June, I don’t think Angus is the one who cause the Gods to leave,” Mavis said, in a tone that would be playful if she wasn’t still having a staring contest with the statue.

“That’s not what I was... Okay, it did sound like accusing you, but that’s not what I meant. I was just wondering even if these three were involved, what if they don’t remember as well?”

“Oh.” Angus hadn’t thought of that.

“It would at least let us know we’re on the right path. Or maybe they have something that we don’t. There are lots of ways to get clues,” Angus ended up saying. June sighed.

“Alright, Mr. Detective. Now what did you want with the map?”

They headed back to the Davy Lamp and Angus started marking the map up with all the locations he thought the three would go. There was a good chunk of coastal towns. Once again that gut feeling made Angus think one or more of the men would like that.

“Bottleneck Cove?” Mavis said, pointing at one of the towns he marked.

“I know it’s a resort town, but not a lot of people go and-”

“Not for years. I.. or well my mum is a pearl harvester, and that area was really dangerous for a long time until something changed almost two years ago.”

“What do you mean something changed?”

“The tides were all weird and people would go missing, but that stopped one day. I don’t know if we ever knew what caused the weird stuff in the first place, or what caused it to stop,.” Mavis said nonchalantly.

“Weird like what happened here?” Angus asked, looking to June.

“I doubt it. It could have just been some normal adventurers that stopped a demon or whatever monster you want. What happened here... It was so much more than that.”

“Well, I just thought it might be worth taking a look,” Mavis said, pushing up her glasses.

“It’s not a bad place to start. We could get all the coastal towns out of the way by just walking along the beach.”

“Sure. But you two need to pack and get some armor. Magic is worthless now-a-days and I don’t want you two getting hurt,” June said, and Mavis gave Angus a look.

“I’ve been traveling on my own for a few months now and Angus is some world famous detective. I think we will be fine.”

“See, now that you said that we have to get you two something. Have you two muti-classed in anything?” June said as she walked out and pulled a chest out from the back room.

“I was learning to be a rogue before I found... my mentor. Nothing formal, it was just stuff that was useful for my cases,” Angus said as he watched as June started pulling out some clothes.

Her old clothes?

“I have some leather armor in my bag. I think we should pack more for a long trip in case we run into any danger.”

“Mavis! Stop jinxing us!”

Angus couldn’t help but start laughing. There was something familiar about this, but not too familiar, and Angus was hoping it would last.


	4. Junebug

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> June remembered three views from the top of the plateau. Three casts to the sky: shimmering white and vibrant blue and dismal grey. The transition between them was lost to her. She’d been lost, once, in the mineshaft that her father didn’t emerge from. She can’t remember being found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I GOOFED  
> Calcu's chapter was supposed to be chapter 3! If you read before Oct 15 we're super sorry for the confusion. The chapters are in the right order now!

What little they’d found so far did nothing to plug the holes in June’s memories. She’d told Angus and Mavis that she left Refuge to try to help people. This was true. But one of those people was herself.

June learned to think of the world as a tapestry from services at the Temple of Istus up on the plateau. Repairing the temple had been a massive undertaking for the whole town, one that even drew Raymond away from his farm. June remembered Ren levitating jugs of sweet tea up the sloping path. She remembered learning how to smooth stucco with a trowel, remembered packs of fired roof tiles like nested scallops, remembered running a dust cloth and then wood oil over benches in the sanctuary until they gleamed. She remembered what Brother Luca had said about Fate; that Time was the progression of intermingled lives, each a thread bound with others to form the grand tapestry that is the world. Fate was the image on the tapestry, the picture made by all the entwined threads.

Just because any one thread was invisible within the larger tapestry didn’t mean it was insignificant. Your thread was your Life as much as your Fate, and while your choices were not infinite—were dictated by your personality and abilities and circumstances and sheer random chance, at times—they _mattered_. Everyone’s choices together made up the weft of the tapestry, and June was as much a part of that as anyone. She belonged.

She wasn’t any less an orphan than she was now. But she remembered being smaller, wearing pigtails in her hair and dust on her knees, and feeling at peace with it. She remembered—remembered a fervor about the town. Remembered crowds at the temple, candlelit services packed with attendees, feats at the Davy Lamp afterwards. A town that lived in celebration of Istus, united by—something.

After Judgement Day, almost everyone in town visited Brother Luca at least once. But the hearts of the parishioners had changed. People were bitter, scared, anxious with uncertainty for the future. People suddenly trusted Istus less, the transition as abrupt as dousing a fire. And when she didn’t answer? When even Brother Luca’s prayers went unheard? Most abandoned the temple altogether. Even June.

June remembered three views from the top of the plateau. Three casts to the sky: shimmering white and vibrant blue and dismal grey. The transition between them was lost to her. She’d been lost, once, in the mineshaft that her father didn’t emerge from. She can’t remember being found.

If June’s life was a thread, then it was frayed to the point of breaking. If her life was a fabric, it would be lace someone had taken scissors to. The certainty and peace and belonging she’d once felt snipped away and discarded.

She cried on Judgment Day, and many days after, her emotions wrecked and marooned and her thoughts slipping towards static. At least she had Ren to bring her hot cocoa and rub circles on her back and praise her for the smallest of victories in her recovery, even when those looked like braiding her own hair and putting on a fresh dress for the day.

She couldn’t remember how she came to live with Ren. In time that stopped hurting, after she realized that Ren didn’t remember either and wasn’t going to discard her. Ren assured her that the years they’d worked together were real, that June was a damn fine waitress, and that it was okay for her to need a break. But, just as June accepted this, she realized she had to leave.

June didn’t know what to do with a town of one hundred souls who felt like they knew her when she didn’t even know herself. She traveled out of Refuge to assume a lifestyle as transient as her past. Days spent introducing herself to strangers on the road were days she worried less about the static swallowing her memories. She made their acquaintance as a new person to them and they smiled, so she could be a new person to herself and keep smiling too. She learned pickpocketing and sleight-of-hand and juggling and cards and was deeply comforted when static didn’t consume those.

Now, after talking to Angus and Mavis, she was able to think of the static as something done to her. Not something she’s responsible for and has failed to control. And not something she’s alone with.

She won’t confide in them. She decided that even as she approached them in Neverwinter, drawn in by the realization that the shape of their losses was something like hers. They’re _kids_ , she volunteered to _babysit_. They were leaning on _her_ for support.

June packed spare clothing and bedrolls and blankets, lamps and oil and matches, knives for paring and cutting rope and boning fish and spares besides, oilcloth tarps and soap, diamonds in purses and an iron pot and everything else they’d need. Then she hefted the packs, realized they were too heavy for Angus or Mavis to carry all day, and redid all her work.

Mavis handled the food, working with Ren in the kitchen. June thought that was for the best.

Angus interviewed everyone in town that June couldn’t bear to talk to again. He returned with a troubled expression and a full notebook. June hoped he’d be able to glean some information from the disjointed stories that’d driven her to frustrated tears, back when she was first feeling out the edges of her missing memories. When she thought Ren or Cassidy or Luca or someone would be able to help her.

“Do you know Paloma?” he said to June, face buried in his notes.

“The Fortune-Teller in the woods? Though I guess she’s not tellin’ fortunes anymore, what with magic bein’ gone. Yeah, I met her—a while ago.” It might have been a few years. Or not. June had no way of knowing.

“I found her cabin,” Angus said. “She wasn’t out there. Everything was covered in fine dust.” He rummaged in his pocket and held up a tiny glass vial full of sparkling powder.

June tried to remember and hated the feeling. “I think—her prophecies were like crystals. She’d give you one if you paid her.” There might be more in her head, but she shied away from probing. Wouldn’t do to give herself a headache when they had to travel today.

“It looked like they’d shattered,” Angus said, thoughtful. “Maybe a side-effect of whatever took magic away? There’s been no trace of her for months, apparently.”

June’s ashamed to realize that she doesn’t know whether Paloma had been around after Judgement Day. She’d been preoccupied. “Well hey, just one more missing person to look for. We’re already doing that!”

“Actually, Mayor Cassidy said she’d talked about moving to Goldcliff, after Judgement Day,” Angus said. “I think we should focus on Magnus and Merle and Taako.”

“Right, right,” June said, fastening the packs closed. “Sounds good to me.”

“Before we get going, ma’am, there’s something I need to ask you,” Angus said. “About the old statue.”

Shoot. “What about it?”

“Magnus was in both, correct?” June nodded. “But he wasn’t alone. There were two other figures in Merle and Taako’s places.”

“Uh, yeah,” June said, trying to sound casual. “Me and my dad.”

“You didn’t think that was relevant to our investigation?”

“I dunno what to tell you, Angus! They’re at the cemetery if you wanna see ‘em, cuz we couldn’t find my dad’s body to bury!”

Angus flinched back. “I’m sorry.”

June scrubbed at her face. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I’d tell you if I remembered something, but I don’t. I dunno why there was a statue of me. I don’t want nothin’ to do with it.”

June turned her attention to the packs. She took stock of Angus’s scrawny frame and then selected the lightest one to offer him. He shouldered it and started adjusting the straps.

He was being patient with her. That, more than anything, prompted June to continue. “People remember me dying,” she said, fighting to keep her voice above a whisper. “Ain’t that the funniest thing? They thought I was dead, but then I wasn’t, and no one remembers anything about that. I just…I remember working at the Davy Lamp with Ren, after, and then one day I couldn’t remember how that happened.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. He wriggled his shoulders in the straps, getting used to the weight of the pack. It made a funny picture—a little boy with bushy hair and glasses and smart shoes carrying a load of camping gear. It’d be a long walk to Bottlenose Cove.

“Aw, it ain’t your fault!” June said with a cheery smile, clapping him on the shoulder. “You’re doin’ a lot for me, helpin’ out with your detective skills!”

They heard footsteps dashing up the stairs, and a moment later Mavis burst through the door. “Get the packs!” she said, grin stretching her face. “Miss Ren’s got a surprise!”

June handed Mavis’s pack off to her and followed down the stairs. She hadn’t done well saying goodbye to Ren the first time and didn’t feel prepared to do any better now. But Ren ushered them through the dining room and out the front door with a wave, keeping careful distance.

Mayor Cassidy was waiting for them on the street with a covered wagon pulled by two sturdy horses. “Howdy kids!” she said. “We heard y’all were goin’ on a trip!”

June froze. This was—why would they—

“Wagon’s already got supplies for the horses,” Ren said, smiling kindly. She extended her arms towards June, just a little. An offer with no expectation. “If y’all find anything—I’d appreciate it. We all would.”

June dashed to Ren and threw her arms around her. “Thank you,” she said. “This’ll—this’ll make travel a lot easier.”

Ren laughed against her. “June, me and Mavis were talkin’. If y’all are goin’ up the coast you really oughta stop by at her mother’s. Maybe she knows somethin’ helpful ‘bout this Merle Highchurch.”

“That’s a good idea, Miss Ren!” Angus chirped. With one parent between the three of them it’s no wonder June and Angus hadn’t thought of it. Maybe Merle had been something like a parent to Mavis. June hoped things would be alright for her. That he was out there to be found.

“I’m sorry,” June mumbled into Ren’s shoulder.

“Y’ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry for,” Ren said. She held June out at arm’s length and looked her over warmly. “You’re doing us a favor here, if anythin’. I hope y’all figure somethin’ out about this mess.”

“We’re rooting for you kids!” Cassidy said. “Wait, I reckon Junebug’s grown now, ain’t she? Fer a human?”

“Thanks for coming with us, Miss June,” Angus said. June didn’t like her old nickname much anymore, and it must’ve showed on her face. She was glad that Angus cut in. “Mavis and I are grateful for your help.”

June laughed brightly. “Yeah, I’ve gotcha! Let’s saddle up and get rollin’!”

Mavis, enamored of the horses, took shotgun next to June. Odds were that Cassidy left an actual shotgun in the back of a wagon for them, but June’s not about to put something like that in a kid’s hands. Maybe she’d wield it after Mavis learned how to handle the reins. For now, she was just handling the map, directing June along their planned route.

Angus sat in the back with his notebook. He muttered to himself mostly, but on smooth stretches of road the wheels were quiet enough they were able to discuss the case. He started teaching them some of the discipline behind detective work. June never thought she’d be interested in that, but the more he explained things the more she enjoyed following his logic and inferences.

The first thing they agreed on was that they didn’t have enough information. Missing persons cases could be tricky without amnesia in the mix, apparently. And if the boys didn’t remember themselves?

“Who says they’re together?” June said abruptly, when it was getting close enough to dark that they’d started talking about campsites. “I know your gut’s tellin’ you that they were close, Angus. And they were friends in Refuge, doin’ some heroics no one remembers. But if they forgot that, then how much else did they lose?”

“If we can remember—or if we can _think_ that they’re friends, though,” Angus called from his seat, “wouldn’t they? Among the people I’ve interviewed so far, the memory loss has been consistent. I’ll keep looking for evidence to the contrary, but right now my hypothesis is that these ‘voided’ events are lost to everyone involved. No one’s remembered something that others haven’t been able to.”

“If I woke up one day and couldn’t remember my mom or Mookie,” Mavis said, chewing her lower lip. “If I went to breakfast and they were strangers? I’d be scared, but I think—I think I’d still stay with them. Even if we didn’t remember each other, I think we’d still be—kind of the same?”

June kept her eyes steadfastly on the road. Angus spoke up first. “You mean that you’d have some of the same familiar habits?”

“Yeah!” Mavis said. “Like, she’s my mom. She’s raised me my whole life. I’d be her daughter even if I didn’t remember it.” She snuck a look at June. “And we’d talk the same, too? Have the same accent.”

“That don’t mean everyone’d deal with it the same way,” June said slowly. “What if it’s too hard, being ‘round people who feel like they should know you when you don’t know why? And…sometimes, even if someone—something—is lost to everyone, it matters more to some people than others.”

“Those are good points,” Angus said, scribbling in his notebook. “And…I don’t think this is right, but it needs to be said. We’re assuming Taako, Magnus, and Merle are victims here.”

“It could be their fault,” June said, testing the words on her tongue. Didn’t feel right. Didn’t sound right. But very little did, these days.

“All we know is that they’re at the center of whatever’s been happening,” Angus said.

Mavis was stiff in her seat, clutching the map. “Even if it’s not them, though,” she said. “Then we’re—accepting the premise? That someone might be at fault. That there was an, uh, agent behind these events.”

“That’s right,” Angus said. “Normally investigating motives would help here—if an action was purposeful, then who stood to benefit?”

“Can’t think who’d be able to get rid of the gods and magic without bein’ a god or needin’ magic themselves,” June said.

No one else could either. They slept on it at the campsite, after June showed Mavis and Angus how to untack and brush off the horses, and everyone’d had food and water. They talked about nothing in particular over breakfast the next morning, enjoying the meal, and were in high spirits when they started the day’s travel.

They needed all the cheer they could muster when they finally arrived at Bottlenose Cove to find it ruined. There were still some people around, still as many shops open as in Refuge. But Refuge was a tiny mining town of a hundred souls. Bottlenose Cove had once been a thriving resort city. For every occupied building there were ten others wrecked and empty. Some entire neighborhoods had been reduced to rubble. There were scattered rebuilding efforts, but no one had taken charge of the effort to get the town back on its feet.

June found that she was good at asking the survivors questions. Mavis was cowed by their gruffness and sorrow, and Angus sometimes pushed too hard. Just as in Refuge, the survivors agreed on what they remembered. Disaster had struck Bottlenose Cove on Judgment Day, flattening entire buildings and leaving dead piled in the street. Then, nothing. No more destruction—but also no more gods, no more magic.

At least some of the residents remembered things about Taako’s traveling cooking show. Maybe that’d be their breakthrough. Angus kept coming back to Taako in his questions, fixated for reasons June could only guess at.

There were people in Bottlenose Cove who didn’t remember how their families died. June handled those interviews alone. Angus hovered in the background taking notes, sometimes, but Mavis was openly relieved to go mind the horses for them.

Angus’s little journal of interviews was almost out of pages. He and June picked up another, after a frustrating hour spent finding someone who’d buy diamonds for gold. They decided to sleep in the wagon; they agreed it was too late to go around town asking after an open inn, but June suspected they mostly wanted some time with just the three of them.

June taught Mavis and Angus Hearts and Hold ‘Em by lamplight and declared bedtime when they got sleepy. She sat up with the horses for a while longer and looked over the map. There were so many towns left to visit. This was going to take a while, with just the three of them looking for answers. At least the interviews had been going well. They’d need all the help they could get.


	5. Witch's Hand

They left early in the morning and the next few towns prove even less fruitful than Bottlenose.  The levels of destruction vary. Some towns, similarly to Refuge, seem almost untouched. Others have been wiped off the map, leaving only massive craters in their place.

Angus had read about the destruction left behind after Judgement Day, but seeing it is another story. By now most of the deserted developments are void of bodies, rotted away and coated in a thin layer of dirt over the year of abandonment. The emptiness of these places sends a chill down Angus’s spine, and he always feels watched. June makes the executive decision that they won’t stop for long in lost towns if they can help it. The destroyed places aren’t even the worst. The worst are the ravaged ones, just enough people left to mourn and be somber.

Most intact villages they arrive at are full of people who don’t want to talk. Any questions the three of them ask tend to be met with sour looks and requests to move on.

It’s depressing to say the least. After almost two weeks of this the three of them find themselves heading towards Goldcliff.

“Do you really think we’re going to find them?” Mavis asks absently as the towers of the city appear in the horizon, giving voice to the growing anxieties of the group. “We haven’t gotten any new information since we left Refuge.”

“We gotta keep going,” June says from the front of the wagon. “What else can we do?”

Angus had been considering the possible futility of this mission himself for the past few days now. In his Caleb Cleveland books, Caleb never went this long in-between clues. Angus had delved through his notes dozens of times, looking frantically for something he might have missed, but there really isn't much information to go on. They have a couple names, a statue, and some gaps in their memories. It isn’t enough.

“We could find something in Goldcliff,” Angus adds hopefully. “I know we can crack this case if we just keep at it.”

“I suppose,” Mavis mumbles. “You know I was in Goldcliff when Judgement day happened?”

“I think I remember you mentioning that!” Angus perks up. “Do you think we’ll get another clue there?”

“I-I’m not sure?” Mavis says. “I guess I can think of a place to start looking, though."

“Where?” June glances back. “We can go there first before-“ June cuts herself off mid sentence, prompting Angus to look up towards the front.

“Are you alright June?” Mavis asks, standing up to move to the head of the wagon. Angus joins her.

“I think so? Do ya’ll see that?” June points out in the distance where a large cloud of dust seemed to be traveling across the landscape.

“Whoah. What is that?” Mavis wonders.

“It’s the Goldcliff battlewagon races,” Angus says. “Not technically legal but rather well known in the city.”

“How’d ja know that?” June asks, turning to give him a questioning look.

“I-“ Angus pauses. How did he know that? He’d never been to Goldcliff before. Thinking about it is making his head hurt. “I’m not sure? I just do?”

The three of them think about it in silence for a moment before Mavis gasps and grabs Angus by his shoulders.

“Do you think it could be a clue? Something related to the mystery?”

Angus considers this, and yeah that would make a lot of sense. It would explain the headache he’s getting in an effort to remember where he learned about the races.

“With all these connections I can’t imagine we won’t find somethin,” June smiles. “Where to, Mavis?”

“Goldcliff city center. That’s where Mom found me.”

“Goldcliff city center it is!” June snaps the reins, reinvigorated by the prospect of making progress on their impossible quest.

They make good time, reaching their destination in a little under two hours. Angus is stunned by the beauty of the place. Center square is bustling with activity. People weave around both each other and the highlight of the space, a large pool of water sitting in which is a massive cherry blossom tree. As gorgeous as it is, Angus can’t help but frown at the plant. It feels like the pinks in the petals should be brighter, the leaves fuller.

Mavis hops out first. “I was in the pool when they found me,” she mumbles as she pushes through the crowd towards the water.

Angus follows and looks back to get a thumbs up from June. She’ll watch the cart this time, which he appreciates. He really wants to get a close look at the tree.

“Do you know the exact point around the tree you were found?” Angus asks, pulling out his notebook. He’s still on the second one. There hasn’t been much to add recently so he hasn’t gone through this one quite as fast as the first.

“Yeah actually.” She grabs his hand and starts pulling him around the gate blocking off the pool from the public. “This way.”

When she stops and points at the spot the first thing Angus notices is the weird shape of the bark there. There’s a tangle of knots at the base of the tree, strange considering the smoothness of the trunk everywhere else. If he squints really hard it looks like two people curled around each other. He hums and jots it down in his journal.

“You were near the jumble of knots and branches there?"

“Mhm,” Mavis confirms.

“It almost looks like people…” Angus feels like there should be a connection there. Mavis was saved by two dryads; the tree is knotted into the shape of two people. His brain refuses to think about the implications. It hurts to consider. He writes that down too.

Mavis starts to say something but before she can a call from June catches both of their attentions.

“Hey guys? I think I saw somethin… Or… Someone?” She has to shout over the din of the crowd.

This time it’s Angus’s turn to grab Mavis’s hand and hustle back through the city center.

“Who’d you see?” Angus asks the moment he reaches the wagon. “Was it one of the three people in the statues?”

June isn’t looking at them, just staring off into a side street. “No… it… I think it was Paloma…”

“The fortune-teller from Refuge?” Mavis says as she climbs into the back of the cart.

“She might know something!” Angus says. He’s actually starting to get excited again, as opposed to the past few days where he’s just been feeling defeated.

“Yeah she just kinda stared at me for a moment before disappearing down that’a way.” June points down the street and turns back to Mavis and Angus with a smile on her face. “Looks like the Tres Meddlin’ Kids have a lead.”

Angus grins wider than he has in the past two weeks as June urges the horse down the road. The crowd quickly thins out as they get further from the city center. The horses tread slowly, allowing the three of them to carefully watch their surroundings for signs on Paloma.

“June, what does Paloma look like?” Angus asks, realizing he doesn’t even know who he’s looking for.

“She’s an old lady who has a look on her face like she knows more than you.”

Angus hums a confirmation and goes back on look out. It’s not long before he locks eyes with a woman in a brightly colored apron with a knowing glint in her eyes. She’s standing just outside a small bakery, which she quickly disappears into as soon as he catches sight of her.

“Stop the cart!” Angus shouts, leaping off the back before the horses come to a full standstill. He hits the ground running in the direction of the little shop.

“Angus wait up!” Mavis calls from the back of the wagon.

At the same time June yells, “Angus wait I gotta tie up the horses!”

Angus ignores them both. A small bell above the door chimes as he pushes into the shop. The woman he assumes in Paloma is standing behind the counter with a bright smile on her face.

“Are you Paloma?” Angus says, manners forgotten in his excitement.

“What? No hello?”

“S-sorry Ma’am,” Angus shuffles his feet sheepishly. “Hello.”

“Hello. You are Angus, yes?”

“How did you-“

“It is not important. Yes I am Paloma. And you are looking for one of the Twins?”

“One of the… what?” Angus approaches the counter just as June and Mavis enter the door behind him.

“Ah,” Paloma hums. “I see the seekers of the Protector,” she points to June, “and the Peacemaker,” she moves her finger to Mavis, who sifts under her gaze, “are here as well. June and Mavis”

Mavis’s eyes widen. “You know our-“

“I know many things, Mavis. Come, come. We have much to discuss.” Paloma motions for them to follow her and then retreats into the back.

Angus looks back at June and Mavis. June shrugs and says, “She’s always like this far as I can tell.”

Angus nods and crosses around the counter to pass through the beaded curtain cutting the back of the shop off from the front. The clicks of glass behind him tell him June and Mavis followed. Angus can’t help but wonder how Paloma seems to have retained her fortune-telling abilities past Judgement day. Skills like that have faded over the year cut off from the gods who would traditionally grant such powers.

The back of the bakery is very homey. It consists of two small ovens side by side with shelves of baking supplies and personal artifacts. Bags of sugar and flour are piled to the side. At the center of the small room is a table with four chairs and a colorful patterned cloth draped over. Sitting in the middle of the table is a small plate of macarons. The entire space smells like baked goods and Angus can’t help but sniff the air wistfully. 

“Please help yourself to a cookie,” Paloma motions to the tray and takes a seat at the opposite end of the table. “You’ve had a long journey, yes?”

“You could say that,” June says. She doesn’t hesitate to take a macaron and pop it in her mouth. “This is amazing!”

Paloma laughs and says, “Yes, I have had to focus more on baking since my fortune-telling skills faded.”

“You still seem pretty psychic to me?” Angus says, reaching for a treat himself. When he takes a bite he can’t help but feel like he’s had better, regardless of how incredible it is. He can’t place when he last had a macaron though.

Paloma’s giving Angus a weird look when he glances back and he turns toward his friends uncomfortably before she starts talking again.

“Being able to read things is very different from seeing the future, Angus,” she says. “Now, down to business. I cannot give you prophecy anymore.”

“All your crystals broke, right?” Angus says.

“Yes. But I think I can lead you closer to your goal.”

“Why did you leave Refuge?” June asks, reaching for another cookie.

“I didn’t think I could be much help there anymore. It was important I meet you here.”

Angus scribbles that down in his notebook. “Why did you have to meet us here, Ma’am? Couldn’t you have talked to us in Refuge?”

“Well, if I had done that you would have been too far away from where you need to go.”

Angus isn’t so sure he follows Paloma’s logic, but he writes it down anyways.

“So what do you have to tell us?” Mavis asks. She hasn’t sat down.

“You are close to your goal, but there is one key thing you are missing. You must find the man made of wood.”

Angus frowns and gives Paloma and odd look. “With all due respect, ma’am, that sounds awful like a prophecy.”

Paloma chuckles and simply smiles at him. She doesn’t say anything else.

For what feels like the thousandth time since he entered the shop, Angus feels uncomfortable. Paloma is… weird.

After what is definitely a strange amount of time for a conversation to stagnate, Paloma gets up and walks towards one of her shelves. She doesn’t say anything as she takes three things down and places them on the table, two small boxes and a large tin. Angus watches intently as she opens the lid of the first box and takes out what’s inside.

“This is the only crystal that did not break.” She motions for June to come towards her and takes her hand. Paloma turns June’s hand over so her palm is facing up and places the crystal inside. The gem is a dark obsidian with specks of bright reds, blues, yellows, and greens flashing throughout. It sends a chill down Angus’s spine to look at for reasons he can’t place.

June carefully closes her hand around the crystal and stares at Paloma with an air of wonder.

“Give it to the Protector when you find him. And, Angus?”

Angus watches Paloma carefully as she passes the tin towards him. “Give these to the three. I think at least two of them will appreciate it.”

She smiles softly and opens the final box. She pulls out a small compass and says, “Mavis, this will lead you to your nearest family member. I think it will help you.”

Mavis reaches for the compass and holds it out in front of her. As soon as she takes it from Paloma the needle starts spinning round and round, gradually slowing down until it settles on a direction. Angus is writing furiously in the notebook by now.

Paloma smiles before quickly shifting her stance to something more firm, hands on her hips. “Now go on, the three of you. You have a job to do.”

Paloma bustles them out of the bakery and closes the door without another word. The three of them stand on the side of the street stunned. Angus can’t help but feel they’re further behind than before.

“Won’t this just lead me to my mom?” Mavis mumbles after a moment. That breaks the silence, leaving it filled with laughter. They walk back to where June tied up the horses and clamber on.

“So where to?” June asks.

“Paloma said we need to find a wooden man?” Angus offers. “Though I’m not sure what that really means in terms of ‘where to go.”

“We could try following the compass?” Mavis says. “I still think it’s just going to send us to my mom, but she must have given me it for a reason.”

“Sounds good!” June urges the horses forward and motions for Mavis to come up to the front so she can monitor the direction they go.

The compass eventually leads them out of the city, but not in the direction they came, not towards Bottleneck Cove. Instead they find themselves tracking down a narrow dirt path in a sunny forest.

“This is weird…” Mavis says about three hours out of the city. “I didn’t think I had any family out this far?”

“That probably says even more certainly we’re on the right track, right?” June says. She pulls the horses to a stop and looks worriedly at the compass. “The more we follow this path the more we go off track from the needle.”

“We could always get out and walk?” Angus says. He feels like they’re so close and he can’t wait to crack this.

“Sounds good to me,” Mavis agrees.

“Alright,” June sighs. “Le’me tie up the horses then. If we get too far we’re comin’ back and just gonna keep followin’ the trail, though.” They agree that’s reasonable since they don’t quite know how far they still have to go. Roping the horses only takes a moment and then the three of them are marching through the trees towards some unknown destination.

After a few minutes of silence Angus puts out a hand and motions for June and Mavis to stop.

“What’s up Angus?” June asks as he examines the air in front of them.

“The air up ahead looks… almost glassy?” he says. “Like a barrier?” He can see Mavis squinting to get a better look.

“Oh my goodness! You’re right!” she exclaims.

“I”m goin’ first,” June declares. “I’m the oldest and if this thing can hurt us I don’t want it to be one of y’all.”

Angus is about to protest, but June doesn’t give him a chance. She walks right on forward, passes through the barrier, and disappears.

She immediately pops her head back through. “Guys? I think ya’ll need to see this.”

Angus turns his head to lock eyes with Mavis and nods. Then the two of them walk through to join June.

Inside the barrier the woods are almost the same, except the there’s a large clearing up ahead that was previous invisible. The magic behind them has turned opaque so Angus can’t see the forest they came from. That’s not what holds Angus attention. What really catches his eye, is the wooden mannequin standing at the edge of the woods, holding an ax, and staring at the three of them.

“Wha-,” the mannequin looks taken aback. “ANGUS?”

  
  



	6. The Wooden Man

Angus stared up at the mannequin in front of him, his mind suddenly screaming with static that ripped and tore as it sped through him. He took a few stumbling steps forward and then fell, pressing the palms of his hands against his eyes. The mannequin let the axe fall from his hands and ran forward. 

"Ango!"

June interposed herself between the mannequin and the two children as Mavis dropped to her knees beside Angus.

"What'd you do to him?" She flicked a pair of throwing knives up into her hands, not entirely sure they would help against a man made of wood. Then she fumbled one of them as the realization hit her. "Holy shit, the wooden man. You're the wooden man!"

Mavis looked up, eyes wide. "But if he's who we're supposed to find, then why did he hurt Angus?"

The mannequin knelt and started to reach towards Angus. "I didn't do this. It's... Angus, buddy, you need to listen to me. Stop trying to remember." The mannequin turned and shouted over his shoulder. "Merle! You need to get out here!"

That was when the mannequin finally looked at June and Mavis. It was impossible to read the expressionless face of the wooden mannequin but there was something in his posture, something in the way he was staring intently at both of them.

"Junebug."

June's head snapped up and her eyes narrowed. "How do you know that name?"

The mannequin met her eyes steadily. "Because I knew you when you were a kid and because I knew Roswell. I'm Magnus."  


* * *

When Angus woke, he was laying on a low bed inside a small house and his head was pounding.

"Here, kid, drink this. It'll taste like ass, but you better not throw up on my blankets."

A dwarf suddenly appeared in his vision with flowers in his beard. He shoved a cup into Angus' hands. It tasted like vinegar and something bitter. Angus made a face but he choked it down. Slowly, his headache faded and he sighed, but he could still hear the static swimming through his mind as he looked at the man in front of him. "Do I know you, Sir?"

The dwarven man set the cup on a table and shook his head. "Fuck if I know. Name's Merle."

Angus sat up fast and adjusted his glasses, excited. "You're Merle Highchurch, aren't you? We were looking for you. Me and Mavis and June. You were in Refuge and..." His eyes flicked to the silver bracer on Merle's arm just the same as the one in his bag. "Do you know what happened a year ago? Do you remember how the world ended?"

Merle raised a hand, trying to stem the tide of questions. "Kid, I barely remember my own name some days. You really think I remember stuff like that?"

Well, that certainly wasn't the answer that Angus had been hoping for. Then he narrowed his eyes, looking around. "Where are Mavis and June?"

The answer to his question came in the form of a third stranger who stepped into the room looking lost and distant, an elven man clinging to an umbrella like it was his only lifeline to the world, like it was the most important thing in creation. This man looked at Angus and then seemed to look through him.

"More kids, huh, old man? Mags had some kids too." Then he turned away and passed through a curtained-off doorway. "Ch'boy will be... not fucking dealing with that. I don't do kids."

Angus felt odd looking at him, like there was something there that he should remember, like there was something very important about the elf standing in front of him. But then it was gone again and he felt the same as before. Merle sighed a little and watched the man go.

"Don't worry about Taako. He's just like that. Now that you're up, Magnus was waiting for you to get back, so you better run along."

For a long moment, Angus looked at that curtained-off doorway. Then he nodded and got up. He needed to go find out if Mavis and June had found any clues anyway. 

* * *

When he got back outside, he found Mavis and June and the wooden man, Magnus, sitting under a tree talking. He paused for a moment, feeling oddly amused as he watched the wooden man carving something out of a scrap piece of wood with a small knife. Then he closed the distance and sat down opposite Magnus, leaning forward.

"Sir, do you remember how the world ended?"

Magnus stopped then, knife frozen mid-stroke. If his featureless face could have shown expression, he would have looked stricken, like a man who had seen things. Of course, he had seen things, things no one else had seen and remembered. He nodded slowly.

"I was there." He said more, but it dissolved into static and Angus slapped his hands over his ears, wincing in pain. 

Mavis shook her head and June frowned. This. This was new. They finally had someone who knew things, who had really seen what had happened, and he couldn't tell them a thing. At least not anything they could hear. 

Mavis was the first to speak up. "If you can't say it, could we try writing? Can you write it down?"

"Maybe make a picture... If words don't work." That was June's suggestion.

Angus nodded and held out his notebook. Magnus took it and started writing but the letters seemed to blur almost immediately. That wasn't working either. Then he paused and drew something, a line across the page.

"The ground?" 

Magnus nodded slightly and kept drawing. A circle in the sky, shaded slightly, with stars around it. And then a second circle. A second... a second moon? But that didn't make any sense. June said as much and Angus began to feel sick again. The more he stared at the page, the worse he felt. Something about the idea of a second moon made him sick and he didn't know why. Magnus was still drawing, stick figures in some kind of little capes or something, each one holding something small. 

“It was like this...”


	7. Chapter 7

“Does, did,” Angus stuttered, paused to consider. Drew, one line by one, the Bureau of Balance symbol. “Does this, thing? Have anything to do with the second-” he grimaced, presumably in pain “moon?”  
“Yeah. It has everything to do with it.” Magnus said. He stopped to consider how, what he could say that wouldn’t hurt this precious child further. “There was a woman,” he said, pausing to see if the kids could still hear him, “a family.” They followed him so far, looked like. “We made a mistake.” Judging by Angus’s pained expression, that was too much. “They made a mistake.” Seemed okay, but better to make sure. “Got that part?” he asked, relieved when they nodded. “Then they tried to fix it.”  
Angus doubled over again. “Oh no, oh no, Angus, I’m sorry!” Magnus fretted, pulling the kid into a hug. ‘If only I still had a body’, he thought, grimly remembering that awful, awful, last quest.  
“It’s fine sir, I’m okay!” Angus protested weakly, contradicting his words by leaning in. “Please go on sir,” he begged. “A woman and a family that made a mistake. And then what?”  
“The woman made a bigger mistake.” Magnus whispered, terrified that would hurt. When nothing happened, Magnus dared try and continue. “The family tried to stop her, tried to protest, but.”  
“Too late, huh?” June asked with a wry look and a wan smile. Magnus nodded.  
“Well that’s alright!” Angus said, “We are on the case!” Magnus would have smiled, if he could have.  
“Angus McDonald, Boy Detective. No better detective to be found on any plane of existence.” He said fondly.  
“Uh, sir, you staticked out in that last bit?” the young dwarf, Mavis, said. Magnus shook his head.  
“That part wasn’t important right now. Angus, you’re the detective. What’s the next step?” Angus grinned at him.  
“There was a second moon sir, you said.” Magnus nodded. “Where is it now?” Angus asked. “That’s the next step. We need to find it.”

* * *

Lucretia walked slowly. There was no one still on the Moonbase, no one but her and the Voidfish, and the dead. She grimaced. She stopped in front of a door, their door. She missed them. She always missed them, but now…  
She did not enter, but she flinched when one of her employees appeared next to her. “You made a mistake, Director.” Kilian said, not unkindly. “Probably should have listened to the guys, huh?”  
Lucretia closed her eyes in grief. “I know.” She whispered. She leaned against the door momentarily.  
Sighing, she stood up and continued on, grim determination colouring her features. “How is he, today?” she asked. Kilian did not answer. Lucretia smiled wanly, painfully aware that this was one thing, one thing she would never forgive herself for doing.  
She’d made Davenport worse. There were never any good days, now. There weren’t even any mediocre days. Only horrible, awful days.

* * *

High up in the sky, there was a bubble, meant to shield and protect from the terrifying mass known as the Hunger. Unfortunately, a side-effect of it was, that it cut off every bond. It even cut of magic.  
Lucretia never realised that the bubble would not be self-sustainable, without a source of magic.  
If anyone had been there to see it, they would have stared in horror, as a black tendril slipped through a crack.


	8. Flare

Angus squints up into the sky, examining the way the setting sun dances across the clouds—or rather, the way it doesn’t. The sky is grey, but there’s nothing in it but the occasional drifting wisp of white—there’s a million possible explanations for the muted sky dancing through Angus’s head, but that’s not what he’s here for.

“Is it out yet?” he asks, bouncing a little on his toes. “You said you can see it, right, sir? Because you’re ‘static noises.’”

“I  _ did _ say that,” Magnus says, sitting on a nearby stump and carving a piece of firewood into a duck. He doesn’t look up. “And I can’t make any guarantees it  _ will _ be visible. Sometimes it is, sometimes it’s not.”

“Then why are we even waiting here?” Angus asks, giving him an inquisitive frown. “We should go out looking!”

“No offense, Ango, but you look like a zombie.” How a faceless mannequin manages to look so disapproving, Angus will never know. “And we  _ might _ see it. Better to rest up for a night and  _ then _ go tearing off across the country.”

“But I feel way better now!” Angus protests, waving his arms around for emphasis before a wave of dizziness hits and he almost falls over.

Magnus stares at him with that particular kind of skepticism that can only be conveyed by a featureless expanse of carved wood.

“...Okay, maybe I should sit down,” Angus says, scratching sheepishly at his neck.

“Yeah, go make sure Taako doesn’t wander off or anything,” Magnus says, returning to his carving. “I’ll give you a shout if anything shows up.”

Angus looks over at Taako, who is napping at the base of a tree. “...He’s asleep, though?”

“You’d think so, yes,” Magnus says. “He still manages it. I’ve had to stop him from wandering into the woods at least a dozen times over the past couple months. Sometimes he’s sleepwalking, sometimes he’s just totally zoned out, muttering about—” His voice breaks into static, and Angus winces. “Sorry, forgot about that one. Just keep an eye on him, why don’t you?”

“Sure thing, sir,” Angus says, rubbing at his temples, and he sets off at a trot over to Taako.

He’s got his hat pulled down over his face so the only thing visible of his head is the tip of one of his ears sticking past the brim. He’s got his umbrella hooked around one elbow, laying out away from him, and Angus can’t help but be curious about it—he’s been skittish about anyone but him touching it, for reasons he refuses to elaborate on. Not that he bothers talking to Angus at all, but it’s the principle of the thing.

It’s a mystery, and Angus lives for mysteries, and so ever so casually he reaches out to touch it.

And just as casually, Taako grabs the handle with his other hand and uses it to swat Angus away. “Hands off the merch, sweet-cheeks,” he says, not even moving his hat.

“A-ah, sorry, sir!” Angus says, backing off quickly. “I was just curious, I didn’t realize you were awake.”

“Bold assumption,” Taako mumbles, shifting into a more comfortable position with the umbrella tucked under his arm.

Angus has no idea what that’s supposed to mean. He stares at the prone man, watching his breathing until he’s sure he’s asleep— though it doesn’t actually seem to change.  _ Sleeptalking? That seemed a little too coherent...  _ Carefully, making sure not to touch the umbrella, Angus sits down down by his side. He tries to watch the sky again, but his attention just keeps pulling back to the elf by his side.

He’s sure there’s something important about Taako. More than anyone else living here. Something that sends ice prickling down his spine, magic tickling at the back of his head. He reaches out again to gently grab the brim of his hat, and when Taako doesn’t react he lifts it away.

He looks…serene. The most relaxed Angus has ever  _ (ever?) _ seen him. Even then, there’s still signs of stress in the form of shadowed eyes, countless stray hairs, a nose that looks like it’s been broken and healed wrong at least once…and all of those feel just unnatural. It gives Taako a sort of grounded reality that something deep down inside Angus’s mind insists is  _ wrong. _

Angus settles back on his heels, Taako’s hat on his lap, and frowns. “Who were you?” he asks, and Taako doesn’t even twitch.

He’s about to put the hat back when something shifts right at the edge of his vision. He glances down and finds only the umbrella, totally motionless as all umbrellas are meant to be. Or…  _ is it? _

His head feels light. He should probably sit down properly, but instead he reaches out for the umbrella again, unhooking it from Taako’s arm and gently prying it free. He shifts a little, but doesn’t wake.

“And what are  _ you?” _ Angus wonders aloud, turning it over in his hands. “Probably just an umbrella. Certainly very sparkly, I can see why he’d… hm.” Static hums in his head. He goes to dig out his notebook and write down where his mind had been going when it got cut off, but then the umbrella picks that moment to twist in his hand, magic sparking at the tip—

And his mind fills with the gentle sound of a crackling fire.

_ (In the absence of the Elemental Plane of Magic, everything that runs on magic begins to deteriorate. And as it turns out, in the world of magical endurance Rock-Paper-Scissors, Lich beats Umbrella. Who knew?) _

 

* * *

 

“...Taako! Hey, Taako!”

Taako grumbles, turning away from the voice nagging at him and tugging the brim of his hat further down his face. He’d much rather continue to exist in the sweet, sweet, static-free oblivion of his dreams than listen to whatever this chucklefuck has to say,  _ thanks. _

“Taako, wake the fuck up, you’re the most likely person to be able to help us here. You’re not allowed to sleep.”

“G’fuck yourself,” Taako says, curling up against the tree.

“Nope,” the voice says, prodding him in the side with what feels like some kind of wooden shoe.  _ No, no, hang on… Magnus! Yes, that’s Magnus. Mannequin. I remembered this time! _ “This is seriously urgent, Taako, Angus went missing.”

_ Angus, Angus… _ He lifts the brim of his hat to squint up at Magnus. “Who?”

“Kid. Half-elf. You stole his hat.”

Taako blinks, flipping the hat off his head to examine it. Sure enough, it’s not his regular wizard hat— it’s some little fancy-boy hat with a feather sticking out. He tosses it aside. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

“Well, fuck,” someone else says, and Taako looks over to see some dwarf kid he  _ definitely _ doesn’t know standing off to the side. “We can’t— what are we supposed to do now, go trudging around the woods looking for him?”

“We managed to find this place trudgin’ around aimlessly,” another kid points out, and  _ holy fuckarooni since when was this a fuckin’ daycare. _

“I mean,” dwarf-kid says, crossing her arms, “We have, um,  _ zero _ leads this time, which isn’t a great development from where we started last time, which was with  _ one.” _

“...Fair,” human-kid says. “Um…none of us know some kinda searchin’-spell, huh?”

“Probably couldn’t cast it even if we did know,” dwarf-kid says.

“Anyone wanna tell-slash-remind me why we’re playing babysitter today?” Taako asks, pulling himself to his feet and brushing off his shirt—and then he notices the glaring absence of something very,  _ very _ important. “Okay, who the fuck ganked my umbrella?”

A chorus of shrugs and uncertain noises goes through the trio assembled before him. “We, uh, we’re kinda guessing it was Angus,” Magnus says.

“Great, Mags, wanna tell me why you invited a ‘brella thieving brat into our house?” Taako says, patting down all his pockets in case the umbrella was somehow hidden in there.

“That’s— okay, Taako, that’s like ninety-percent of the questions we’ve got right now, all of which are  _ what the fuck is up with Ango right now.” _ Magnus says. “We don’t know where he is, what he’s doing, why he’s doing it, or why he took your umbrella.”

“He’s not the type to wander off for no reason,” Dwarf-kid chimes in.

“Mighta gotten some kinda urgent clue he had to trace…?” Human-kid mutters, tugging at the end of her ponytail. “That seems like him.”

“With Taako’s hat? And his umbrella?” Dwarf-kid asks.

“Well, it is a magic umbrella,” Magnus says.

“Oh yeah, super magic,” Taako agrees.

They nod together, then something tugs at Taako through the static. His eyes shoot wide open. “Oh, fuck, can he do magic?”

Magnus stills. “...I have no idea what this means but it’s probably bad.”

Before they can say anything more, a loud boom echoes out of the forest, sending what few birds remain in the woods flying out in a panic.

“What was that?!” Human-kid asks, stumbling back. “That— is that smoke?!”

Magnus swears and takes off, barely pausing to tear his axe out of the stump it was embedded in before tearing off into the woods. The kids follow just a few steps behind, and Taako hesitates for a bit, torn between following and staying put, but— “Ah, hell, I want my fuckin’ umbrella back!” he yells, racing after them.

 

* * *

 

_ Walking. Twigs and leaves cracking underfoot. Firewood crackling and burning in the back of his head. More walking. _

_ He’s not the one moving his body. _

_ Clearing. There’s a tree. It looks dead. Umbrella gets hooked over one of the lower branches, his hands start digging through his pockets. Pen. Writing on the palm of his hand. Can’t focus on anything. The fire pops and sparks. _

_ Dig out the broken wand. Hold it out. Drop it. It won’t do. His hand touches the tree, and his breath comes out as mist. There’s frost forming. Can he do that? That doesn’t seem right. He’s not that strong. The magic running through him isn’t his. _

_ The wood is brittle. Cold. Frozen straight through. His feet kick at it. It splinters. He keeps kicking. It creaks dangerously, and he screams at himself to get out of the way— of all the ways to go out, getting mind-controlled into dropping a tree on himself is not the one he was looking forward to. _

_ The tree begins to fall, and he steps out of the way— and the umbrella, positioned ever so carefully on the tree for this very purpose, snaps. _

_ The world gets very bright, very hot—  _ and then his back slams against a tree, knocking the wind out of his lungs, and Angus can  _ think _ again.

The tree is on fire. That seems to be about the polar opposite of how it was a second ago, which Angus isn’t very fond of, but he’s even less fond of the red-robed spectre rising above the fire, crackling with lightning and flickering in and out of visibility. It’s making a noise. It might be laughter. It mostly sounds like glitched shrieks.

He lifts his hand to his head, trying to feel if he’s got any injury there, and instead he finds a hat that really doesn’t belong. It’s Taako’s.  _ Why am I wearing Taako’s hat? _

More importantly— he lowers his hand again and reads the message scribbled in unfamiliar handwriting.  _ If I’m too unstable to talk— sry 4 everything. I didn’t want it to turn out like this. - L _

He looks up at the spectre. It’s doubled over in the air, crackling and shaking. He looks back down at the message. He looks at the burning tree with the shattered umbrella underneath. He stands up. “U-um, excuse me, sir! O-or ma’am! I’m not gonna make any, um…assumptions...”

The spectre is staring at him now, he thinks. There’s no face under that hood. Just a light.

“Uh… s-sorry to interrupt, but did you really have to take me all the way out here for this?” Angus asks. Lightning crackles off the spectre. “I-I mean… okay, kinda makes sense… if you don’t want to… hurt anyone… Who are you?”

The spectre stops, the only movement around it the crackling electricity. It does not reply.

“D-do you know Taako?” Angus asks. “A-are you…um…” Static shrieks in his mind, but he powers through. “A-are you one of the people Magnus told us about?”

The spectre lifts its hood, the light flickering, and for a moment Angus thinks it’s about to speak— and then Magnus comes crashing into the clearing in all his mannequin-y glory. “Angus! Are you okay?!”

“I’m fine!” Angus calls, waving at him past the fire. “Um, I dunno if they are!”

“Who’s they—” Magnus starts to ask, before seeing the spectre and leaping back with a startled yelp of static. “Wha—how—huh?!”

The spectre stares at him now, and it would be comical to watch two magical entities without faces staring each other down if it weren’t for the fact that the forest is currently at risk of catching fire. And then they’re interrupted  _ again _ by someone crashing into the clearing. It’s Taako. He sees the spectre, meets its eyes—

And it  _ shrieks _ , leaps back with lightning lancing out in every direction, setting even more fires around the clearing.  _ This is a disaster, _ Angus thinks. _ I’m going to die here. _

“Excuse me!” Angus calls, keeping his eyes on the spectre and taking a step towards where it floats in the air. “Excuse me, s— uh, sir…?” He happens to glance down at Magnus, and he shakes his head. “...Ma’am? You seem stressed!”

The spectre laughs hysterically, sinking to the ground. Her voice crackles, and barely—  _ just barely, _ Angus can pick out words. “Am I? Am I stressed? Really?”

“Just a little,” Angus says, edging closer. Lightning dances across the ground around him, and a tiny bolt lances across his leg— it stings, and he jerks away from it, but doesn’t look away from the spectre. “Are you okay?”

She slumps to the ground, shoulders shaking. It’s starting to seem less like laughter now. More like sobs. “No,” she says, voice barely intelligible. “I hate this.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Angus feels like a very underpaid therapist right now. Is he going to start asking how this relates to her issues with her father?  _ How does it feel to be some kind of all-powerful spirit comprised of probably at least forty-percent of all magic remaining in the world. _ Angus is panicking so hard that it’s looped back around to calm. “Wanna talk about it?”

The spectre huffs a laugh. “You won’t be able to hear,” she says, and lifts her hood. The light inside is stable. “I…I’m sorry, I’ve done a bunch of mean things to you.”

“I mean, I dunno if mind-controlling me once really counts as  _ things,  _ plural,” Angus deadpans. “But yeah, that was mean, umbrella lady.”

“Oh, there’s more than that,” she says, crossing her arms. “But for future reference, macarons are supposed to have sugar.”

Angus opens his mouth, then squints. “...I know that. How do  _ you _ know I had trouble with that?”

A stream of static spills out instead of her voice.

Angus winces. “Nevermind, guess I don’t need to know.”

“Yeah.”

“Hey, uh, what the fuck’s going down over here?” Magnus asks, having now successfully circumnavigated the fire and come up behind Angus. “Hey, Lup. Cool seeing you. Glad you’re not, uh, even deader.”

“So am I,” Lup chirps, giving him a boney finger-gun.

“Yep,” Magnus says. “So, uh, like I was saying—  _ what _ happened here?! Angus, you wandered off! I told you to make sure  _ Taako _ doesn’t wander off, I thought it was pretty clearly implied you shouldn’t wander off either!”

“Same,” Angus says.

“That one’s on me,” Lup says. “I had, uh, limited options for getting unstuck from a magic umbrella, and like, whatever fuckery’s going on with magic seems to have hit it a whole lot more than me? So I managed to nab this squirt and cart him off to explode somewhere safe. Oh, speaking of—”

She lifts her hand, and all the flames swirl and pull in towards her, gathering in a ball of fire over her palm that then implodes into itself. “There. So, uh, sorry about kidnapping your—” Static.

“It’s cool, you had your reasons,” Magnus says. “I’m just happy to see you. Uh… Taako… is not.”

From the other side of the lightly-scorched clearing, a despair-filled wail echoes forth. “My  _ umbrella!” _

She winces. “Sorry, bro! It was—” Static. “—first!”

“I don’t know who you are, lady, but I’m pressing charges!”

Lup’s body flickers, but she remains solid. “Well, uh, gonna have to deal with that one as it comes,” she says with the voice of a person trying to remain optimistic in the face of utter horror. “What say we take this inside?”

“Good idea,” Magnus says, hefting Angus over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and ignoring his protests. “We have  _ got _ to catch up. How’ve you been?”

“Oh, I’ve been  _ great, _ I was stuck in an umbrella,” Lup deadpans, floating after Magnus as he climbs over the broken tree. Taako glares at her, and she waves cheerfully. “Hi, sorry again!”

Taako mutters something about a lawsuit and stomps off the way he came.

“Great, love that,” she mutters, turning her hood to the sky. Then the light in her hood flickers a little. “Oh, the moon’s out.”

“Huh?” Angus says, twisting around in Magnus’s grasp to look at the sky. “Where? I don’t see anything.”

“Over there, over that tree,” Lup says, pointing, and when Angus tries to look his eyes skip right over the treeline without finding anything.

“Oh,” Magnus breathes, realizing at the exact same time as him. “Guess we found it.”


	9. Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seven people come together to discuss how to save the world. The roster's different, the problem's worse, and Magnus doesn't see how they're getting out of this one.

Magnus has known Lup as a lich for years, cumulatively, but she’s never been as much of a ghost as she is now. There’s no face underneath her hood, no bony hands in her sleeves. She’s a wisp, a pale shadow, and the insubstantial weight of her presence first sent Taako scurrying back to the cabin and then felled him at the threshold. They find Merle struggling to maneuver him through the door, Taako’s lanky form draped over his shoulders.

Merle’s wooden arm dangles limply. Sometimes Magnus helps him secure it in a sling. He misses Merle’s heckling, even though it’s not his fault he had to chop the old arm off. Besides, his entire body is a wooden prosthetic. He won the misery roulette.

“Go help Merle, June,” he says, surveying the people he has left. Angus is too little. Lup’s guttering like a candle. They don’t have time to test Mavis against the static surrounding her father, not with the moon verging on the horizon like a threat.

When Taako’s gulped some Fantasy Advil and flopped down on the couch with a pillow over his head, Magnus scans the room grimly. Another team of seven. Three of them children, two undead, and more than half amnesiac. They couldn’t be less prepared if they tried—but it’s probably too late to matter anyway.

Angus gingerly settles next to Taako’s knees. Mavis takes the chair, June perches on its arm. Magnus locks his knees in place and stands. Lup haunts them, flitting about the room.

Merle approaches Mavis, eyes glazed and brow furrowed. He opens and closes his mouth. Lup’s light flashes across his face, then Magnus’s. “Merle is Mavis’s father,” Magnus says to her, knowing his words will be shredded to static for everyone else in the room.

“Oh, dunk,” she says. Angus’s eyes flick between her and Magnus. Gears are turning in his head plain as day, but the teeth won’t catch.

That sucks. Magnus could really use him right about now. Magnus could really use anyone’s help. “Hey, Merle? How about you go sit on the windowseat and keep an eye out?”

Merle snaps out of his haze. “What’m I looking out for?”

“Uh… Remember the...lady in blue?” Magnus hazards. “She was here like, last winter. Right after Candlenights?”

That was her second visit. Merle and Taako weren’t conscious for the first, when Lucretia dropped them off at the cabin. Magnus trailed after them, pretending to be a simple servant automaton, and watched her tuck them into bed in a hollow display of protectiveness. He felt a vindictive pleasure in the moment, letting her think he’s dead and gone. He’s resolved to be furious with her for making the same mistake twice.

Merle and Taako have a hard time remembering Lucretia. But Magnus remembers everything. He remembers seeing her journals dissolving in Fisher’s tank. He remembers falling to the floor and waking up hours later. Or years later, in another sense; the version of Magnus that loved and fought with Raven’s Roost was not fully himself. His wife never got to meet the Magnus who joined the IPRE and spent a hundred years on a spaceship. Hell, Magnus of Raven’s Roost couldn’t even remember most of his own childhood. He remembered, like, maybe ten years out of a hundred and ten. Did Julia only know him as less than ten percent of himself? Is that how the math works?

“There aren’t any ladies ringing any bells, kid,” Merle says. Magnus isn’t sure if he means in his head or on their stoop.

“Look, just keep an eye out, and lemme know if anyone comes up the path, okay?” Magnus says. “Like, immediately. This is important, Merle.”

The urgency in his projected voice must break through. Merle shrugs and heaves himself up onto the windowseat. Lup floats after him and peers out, and he either forgets or doesn’t remember to flinch away from her ghastly robes. “Sure, kid, you got it.”

“Lucretia visited a little over half a year ago,” Magnus says to the room, though he’s really just talking to Lup. “We’re probably due for another, if she’s bringing the moon back around. She wasn’t here on the anniversary.”

Silence reigns for a full minute. Maybe Taako and Merle and the kids can't know who Lucretia is, but everyone knows Magnus means the anniversary of the end of the world. “She really fuckin’ did it, huh,” Lup’s voice comes, hanging like a blade in the air. “It was the first goddamn thing I told her about her barrier.”

“Yeah,” Magnus says. “You told her a world can’t survive without bonds. In all fairness, I said her thing could be plan B. But she didn’t really give the relics a fair shake.”

“Fuck the relics,” Lup spits. “Taako was right. We were making decisions we had no right to for the world either way. We were never gonna win this.”

“I heard my name,” Taako says, just when Magnus catches a glimpse of the window _through_ Lup’s fading form and thrills with terror down to his soul. “Of course I was right, natch. ‘M always right.”

Lup turns towards him. Maybe. It’s hard to tell. She’s hazy and dim all over. He can’t make out the shadowed opening of her hood from the shadows crawling over the rest of her. “Dingus. You don’t even know what you were right about.”

“Excuse me? _Dingus?_ ” Taako says, indignant voice muffled under his pillow. “Do you know who you’re talking to? I’m Taako from TV, thanks, and I’m the—”

The greatest transmutation wizard to ever live. The greatest chef Faerun has ever seen. Magnus could spin epithets for him all day but Taako can’t gather enough tattered threads to introduce himself on the spot. It makes them both wince.

“Anyway,” he breaks off. “What’s your name, Ghost Lady?”

“It’s Lup,” she says, flatly.

Taako drags the pillow down his face and squints at her. “Didn’t catch that.”

“Yeah, I know you didn’t. Dingus.”

“Fuck you— _Goofus_ ,” he says. Then looks surprised with himself.

Lup barks a harsh laugh that trails off in a buzz of sparks. “Okay, so,” Magnus interjects, drawing all eyes to him. “Shit’s fucked. We’ve got like maybe two hours, tops, before Director Shitfucker herself comes to check up on her happy family cabin, and if she finds anyone here besides Taako and Merle she’ll know something’s up.”

“Is this—was it,” Angus starts. He licks his lips, fighting to put the words together. “There _was_ a person. An agent. Who made magic go away, on Judgement Day.”

“Agent Shitfucker,” Mavis offers from her chair. Merle snorts. He _would_ be the kind of parent to let his kids swear, Magnus thinks.

“Made magic go away,” Lup says, motioning like she’s trying to count off on the amorphous lumps her phalanges have faded into, “severed the bonds between this world and the rest of existence, to the elemental and philosophical planes, astral and ethereal. Cut off the gods. Magnus? Hey, Magnus? Where’s _Barry_ , Magnus? And Davenport?”

“Barry’s visited a few times. Dunno if you caught it from the umbrella, but he’s in ghost-mode,” Magnus says. “He’s been trying to get through to Lucretia. She’s giving him the cold shoulder. And, uh, she…has Davenport.”

Magnus would rather die for his family than let them get hurt. Magnus _has_ died, multiple times, and this most recent one’s stuck for over a year. Lucretia would rather feed her family’s memories to Fisher—twice!—keep Fisher’s egg baby locked up somewhere, and force Davenport to live as a mindless puppet than admit she was wrong and bring them in.

“No lich ward on the moon, huh,” Lup says, in that thoughtful tone she gets when she’s planning how to wreck shit. Tiny sparks of static fleck her shoulders. “I could go say hi. Scope out the shitfucking, drop off a fruit basket and a nice bottle of wine. Let them know I’m not dead after all.”

“Well, Lup, you kind of are.”

“Ma’am,” Angus says, “forgive me for saying so, but…you don’t really seem stable, as a lich. I don’t think you should face off against…Agent Shitfucker…in your condition. Even if your spectral state would permit you easy entry into her—base of operations.”

“Okay, I take back about seven percent of how pissed I am,” Lup says, “because a) at least Luke didn’t erase the concept of liches, and b) this reality where we have to refer to her as “Agent Shitfucker” is kind of funny.”

“That’s a shitty excuse for a silver lining, but I’ll take it,” Magnus says. “We need to get Fisher, Lup. Drinking its slime makes you immune to the amnesia.”

“Okay, what I got out of that sentence was ‘drinking slime’,” June says. _“What?”_

Lup floats over the back of the couch, trailing the hem of her robe through it. Taako peers intently at her, then winces and drops the pillow back over his eyes. But he folds his knees up, jostling Angus, and lets her robes ghost through his kneecaps. He doesn’t pull away when he shivers. “What happened to all her bureau peeps, then?” Lup says. “And didn’t you guys and the boy genius drink the fish poop?”

“Yeah, we drank the fish poop,” Magnus says.

Angus frowns. “I really hope ‘fish poop’ is just a funny joke, sir.”

“It’s not! Also, I think Fisher laid an egg. She’s got two of them, basically, and we need both.”

“Two that we know about,” Lup replies. They share a moment of mutual horror.

“Two _what_ ,” Merle says testily. “Maggie, what the hell is going on? What do the bzzt-bzzt sounds you and Casper have been making with your mouths gotta do with anything?”

“They’re gonna be pretty much useless,” Magnus says to Lup. “Pan can’t get anything through Luke’s bubble, and Taako doesn’t have magic either.”

“And you’re a walking pile of firewood. What kinda defenses are we looking at, moon-side?”

Magnus inclines his head. “I thiiiiiiiink Luke still has some of her people. Killian, for sure, and I hope Carey, too.” Bad news for them if so, but better than thinking about her somewhere planetside, alone, fiancée wiped from her mind. He wouldn’t put it past Lucretia. He’s had plenty of time to tally the ways she broke his trust.

“En-gee-ell, Mags, I dunno how I’m gonna smuggle even just you onto her base,” Lup says.

“You still shouldn’t go alone,” June insists. “Let us help. I know we don’t—understand what’s going on, and we don’t have magic or—ghost powers. But this matters to us too.”

“We’ve been investigating this mystery,” Angus says. “This is the closest we’ve come to solving it. And your—Agent—doesn’t know _we_ know about her. We have the element of surprise.”

“You guys sound kind of crazy,” Mavis says. “Are we talking about storming the base of the person who cut off the gods? Newsflash, we’re _kids!_ Pretty sure she could just kill us!”

“Oh, that’s not a problem,” Lup says. “She wouldn’t go that far. Just mindwipe you some more, probably.”

“Even if she did kill us,” Angus starts, hard glint in his eye, “this is something worth dying for. If only because the whole world will die soon anyway, with magic and everything cut off.”

Magnus wishes he could whistle. “That’s hardcore, Ango. But no, no one else is dying. Not if I can help it.”

He doesn’t know what they can do. The Hunger should already be here. It’s probably squatting right outside Lucretia’s bubble, drowning the rest of the planar system in tarry black. Would it really starve, eventually? If they find the Starblaster, do they have a chance of escaping?

Does he want a chance of escaping? Julia’s soul is here, in this planar system. If the Hunger doesn’t eat ghosts from the Astral Sea. They never saw the aftermath of its invasions.

“We’ve gotta figure something out,” Lup says, drifting back towards Merle at the window. “I don’t want to give up on this planet. Not after we dumped the relics on them. Maybe the mess the Hunger makes isn’t our fault, but here? We homebrewed our own apocalypse here, and we’ve got a lot of blood on our hands.”

“Last time Luke checked in she stayed for almost an hour,” Magnus says. “She’s got these crazy glass cannonballs she flies around. If Taako and Merle can distract her, maybe we can figure a way to get up to the moon and find Fisher.”

“Maybe Barry can help,” Lup says quietly. She’s definitely facing away this time, peering out the window. It’s good that somebody’s watching; Merle is back to staring in Mavis’s general direction with a baffled expression. “At least I got out of the umbrella before the end. I thought I was going to fade away in there.”

“Hey, sis,” Merle says abruptly. “Chin up. Or whatever you have in your robes there. Don’t plan on the end, plan on making the best of life you can. Or, undeath. Whatever. Gotta be better than being in Taako’s umbrella, right? How’d you even get stuck like that?”

“It was the dumbest shit, I swear to god,” Lup says. “And it sucked. It was fucking dark just, the whole time. Years on end. Nothing to do but scream at like, water trickling, and probably cave rats. Whatever made noise. I wasn’t—I wasn’t awake for most of it, I don’t think. I just—dreamed, a lot. About what I wish I’d said. About how I could’ve not fucked up so bad. About my family, and what they were doing, and just—everything else I missed.”

“That sounds awful,” Merle says, waving his good arm in her spectral form like he’s trying to find something to pat reassuringly. “But you’re out! The world’s your oyster! There’s no way to go but forward!”

“I remember colors being brighter,” Lup says. Magnus clacks towards the window and peers over Merle’s shoulder, Angus craning his neck over the back of the couch behind them.

At the border of the woods, a severe figure emerges. Her robes swirl at her heels as she strides towards the cabin. Their blue’s washed out to dingy grey, and the staff in her hand is vibrant white.


	10. Flaming Soul

Mavis, June, and Angus are shuffled out back before Lucretia comes in. Lup insisted Agent Shitfucker couldn’t see them, Angus especially, or the plan would be ruined. Lup settled in a corner and let herself fade from visibility, just to get some tabs down on what Lucretia’s been up to.

 

“I’m glad you two seem to be doing well,” Agent Shitfucker says, taking a seat at the table.

 

“Thanks?” comes Taako’s lilting tone. He’s leaning against the doorframe and for a moment Lup’s worried he’s going to give her away with how he’s staring at where she disappeared, but he quickly seems to forget she was there at all. “Who are you again, lady?”

 

“It’s…it’s really not important.” She sounds sad? At the moment, watching Taako’s blank gaze slide past Lucretia like he can’t quite see her, Lup can’t find it in herself to care how Lucretia feels.

 

“Has anything interesting happened lately? Any new discoveries?” Lucretia asks like she’s talking to children. For a moment it looks like Merle’s going to protest, but instead he just shrugs.

 

“Some kids showed up,” he says. “Can’t…can’t remember their names. Maggie? Ang… Angle… no, that can’t be right.”

 

Lucretia stiffens along with Lup. They weren’t supposed to talk about the kids; not that she can blame them for forgetting about the plan. Their brains are fried. Alright, time to move, then. Lup slips back through the walls to meet with the kids and Magnus. She and him figured, if Lucretia really thinks he’s just a mannequin, she won’t mind his absence.

 

“Alright,” she whispers and allows herself to be visible again for their sakes. “Let’s get back to her pod before she notices us. There should be a way to activate the return from down here.”

 

“Lup…” Magnus hesitates and glances back to the house. “I think just you should go with the kids. I gotta stay.”

 

“But, sir,” Angus protests, “You’re the only physical adult here and… She’s hard to look at sometimes.”

 

“Actually, speaking of that,” June pokes her way in. “Is there something you’d like us to call you? Since your name goes all fuzzy?”

 

Lup claps her hands together. Shit might be fucked to hell and back, but she gets to pick a  _ cool code name _ . “Hmmm. Call me…  _ Firebolt _ .”

 

Magnus starts laughing. Lup wishes she could give him a punch to the arm. “Firebolt?” he asks. “Really?”

 

“Well  _ I _ , think it’s rad,” she counters. “Getting back on topic, why are you staying? Caaause we aren’t even sure I can get up there like this.”

 

“Taako and Merle need me,” Magnus says simply. “They…they can’t really take care of themselves right now. Taako’s got the memory of a goldfish and frankly Merle’s not much better. Gotta…gotta protect them.”

 

Lup, well she can’t smile, exactly, not without a mouth, but her shoulders? Soften. “Yeah. Yeah alright. I’m gonna need to be in something or someone, then. Would really rather not be thrown out of a pod mid-air by some anti-lich bullshit.”

 

“The lich ward is probably down, considering the magic situation right now,” Magnus says.

 

“Better safe than sorry,” Lup says. “And if there  _ are _ still others up there we probably don’t want to cause a panic cause they saw a lich.”

 

“Wait, go back a bit. In…someone?” Mavis says hesitantly. “Like…possession?”

 

“Weeeeeeell,” Lup draws out the sound. “When you put it like  _ that  _ it doesn’t sound  _ great _ . I should be able to take a backseat, though. Probably better if I do, if I’m running the body I might get affected by the…mind stuff, too.”

 

“You can use me,” Angus says quickly and Lup tilts her head at that.

 

“No need to jump the gun, little man,” she says. “I can take a backseat, but having someone else in your noggin isn’t really a light thing. Especially when you can’t even comprehend my name.”

 

“With all due respect, ma’am, we don’t have  _ time _ ,” Angus insists. “We don’t know when Agent Shitfucker is going to head back and we need to do this before she does. Someone has to take you up there and I’m saying it should be me.”

 

“Angus, let me do it,” June says, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m older. I should be do’n this.”   
  
“No,” Angus pulls away. “I’m doing it, come on Ma’am.” He holds out his hand to Lup and she doesn’t want to take it. She knows Angus, not well, but better than these other kids. She’s pretty damn sure he could handle this at the end of the day, more so than the others. But at the same time she really doesn’t want to put a kid a risk.

 

“Kid, if you do this I can’t promise it won’t hurt,” she warns.

 

“This entire  _ week  _ has hurt,” Angus says. “All the static and questions I can’t find the answers to and the headaches. If you taking a backseat in my brain gets me closer to the truth, I’ll do it.”

 

“Alright,” Lup shrugs. She’s still not positive this is a good idea, but she can respect Angus’s guts. “But if it’s too much you  _ need  _ to tell me. Don’t hurt yourself more over this.”

 

“Deal,” Angus says and nods. Lup slips inside.

  
  


Lup entering his brain is like having a wave of static flow over his thoughts. It doesn’t hurt as much. Everything he was thinking in that moment stutters one by one until he can’t think much of anything. When Angus blinks his eyes open he’s on the ground, staring up at the not-blue-enough sky shimmering through the barrier protecting this little hideaway. There’s a pressure at the back of his mind that’s incredibly hard to concentrate on.

 

If he tries especially hard, he can focus enough to remember it’s Firebolt back there in his head. It was already hard to concentrate on her when she was out in the material world. Like this, he could forget she’s there at all if it wasn’t for the light headache.

 

_ ‘You alright, little dude?’ _ comes a vaguely familiar voice in his head.

 

“Yes I think I’ll be ok,” Angus says, carefully parsing out each word so he won’t forget what he’s doing. “You may have to remind me you’re there from time to time, ma’am.”

 

“It worked? L- _ firebolt _ ’s in there?” Magnus asks, drawing her codename out mockingly.

 

“Seems like it,” Angus says. “Let’s get going before I forget what we’re doing.” He refuses to admit he’s mildly scared of what having Firebolt in his head might to do to him.

 

_ ‘If you’re uncomfortable with this I’ll hop out _ ,’ Firebolt thinks.

 

_ ‘No _ ,’ Angus insists back, this time without speaking aloud. ‘ _ This has to happen to save the world. I’ll be fine until we can get the anti-lich wards down.’ _

 

“Let’s go, then,” June says. “Mavis, you still have the compass?”

 

Mavis reaches into her pocket and holds out the little magic compact. “Got it!”

 

“We’ll come back as soon as we get that…slime…stuff,” June says. “That’s what you said we had to get, right?”

 

“Something like that,” Magnus says. “Firebolt’ll help you figure out what to do once you get up there.”

 

“We should get going.” Mavis says.

 

Angus nods, holding his head. “Agent Shitfucker could leave at any moment.”

 

“Alright,” Magnus says. “She probably landed outside the barrier, so if you go right into the woods and then around she shouldn’t notice you.” He moves as if to wipe tears away before stopping and putting his hand down, but that makes very little sense to Angus. Magnus is a  _ mannequin _ . Why would he have an impulse to—

 

Static flares through Angus’s brain again and he clutches at his hair, distantly aware of June’s hand on his shoulder.

 

“Hey, hey, hey,” she soothes. “You good, Angus? Do we need another plan?”

 

“I’m…I’m fine,” Angus insists, waving her off. “We need to go.”

 

Neither Mavis nor June look fully convinced; Magnus is hard to read, but they all stand from their crouches. A few joints pop as Angus stretches.

 

“Good luck, guys,” Magnus says. “I should go too, before Agent Shitfucker starts wondering what happened to me.”

 

He opens his arms for a hug, which is a little strange because it seems like they only just met— This time Angus pulls his train of thought to a halt, feeling the edges of that awful mental barrier again. He needs to force himself to not think about the logical implications of things and it’s  _ hard  _ when that’s how he’s wired his brain to act for years now.

 

“Thank you!” Mavis calls as they start to run off. “We’ll come back! We promise!”

 

Finding the pod proves surprisingly easy. It’s huge, and white (off-white; it doesn’t seem protected by the same force Agent Shitfucker’s staff is), and impossibly, perfectly round.

 

“Well, this is quite a contraption,” June marvels, running a hand along the side. Angus finds very quickly he doesn’t like looking at it too hard and keeps his head down as they all climb inside.

 

“Firebolt given you any ideas on how to make this thing go?” Mavis asks, staring at the minimalist control panel. “There’s not much here, but I’d rather not risk us blowing it up or something.”

 

_ ‘I think it’s the lever _ ,’ Firebolt’s thoughts echo through Angus’s head.

 

“She says try the lever?” Angus translates. “She didn’t seem especially confident about it, though.”

 

_ ‘Hey, I’m the only one who vaguely remembers these things I’m doing my best.’ _

 

“Well,” June grabs the handel. “No time like the present.”

 

She slams the lever down. For a moment, it seems like nothing happened. That’s when great big balloons inflate, obscuring the window, and the craft starts to lift. The door slides shut with a hiss of air.

 

No turning back now. As he takes a seat, Angus wonders if Agent Shitfucker is going to be mad they took her sphere.

**Author's Note:**

> Tansy here! Thank you for coming along for this project! Good Intentions is a collaborative round-robin fic that will continue updating until this mystery is solved. =)
> 
> Please leave a comment or kudos if you enjoyed!


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